


So She Dances

by PunnyMints



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Dancing, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd - Freeform, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, F/M, Female My Unit | Byleth, I WANT HIM TO BE HAPPY OKAY, I have feelings okay, One Shot, Possessive Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Soft Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, pls, someone hug him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24227977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunnyMints/pseuds/PunnyMints
Summary: Byleth reminiscences about better times in the empty ballroom alone... or so she thinks.
Relationships: Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 6
Kudos: 66





	So She Dances

**Author's Note:**

> do y'all like cheesy?????? i, for one, love cheesy, even though I'm lactose intolerant, which is why I'm posting this here

The ballroom was once a grand place. Nobles would whisper about spending their time on the dance floor or socializing and making connections that would come in handy later, and commoners would have a chance to interact with those of the upper crust. At Garreg Mach, the ballroom was a place where lines between social classes blurred, and everyone was free to dance or speak with whomever they pleased without worrying about the whispers of a scandal. Kids could be kids, and that was that. The grand marble columns now held up the air, only partially present. The grand ceiling with its elaborate lighting and mirrored detail was rotted away from rain or thieves who thought stripping it could bring some fortune to feed themselves. The intricate stained glass windows, telling the stories of the four saints and mythology about Solaris, were now multicolored fragments strewn around the old frames. Jagged edges still peered out, giving the illusion of a window attempting to grow back in place of where it once stood. Decay was not stopped here. Dimitri must have avoided the ballroom, because of the bittersweet memories that wafted from the walls.  
Byleth hummed and took a step along the floor of the ballroom. She glanced up at the lack of ceiling, eyes trailing down to where the stained glass laid shattered around each frame. Byleth smoothed her hair back, still humming, her legs finding a melancholy sway in themselves. She could still recall the night of the ball five years ago. The students were in their finest uniforms, the guards in their shiniest armor, just a few nights before everything went wrong.  
She had watched as the students danced across the floor elegantly, the nobles of the youth leading the way. Edelgard had whirled brilliantly with her partner, Dimitri had swept the ladies at the ball off their feet, and Claude had encouraged others to engage in the folk dances of their regions or even learn the new ones from others. Byleth laughed a little at the thought. How silly to think that just within a few day’s time, Edelgard would declare war on everything she had fooled everyone into thinking she loved. Where she had stood back and observed her students laugh and tug one another- even her, though she insisted on her lack of knowledge - into dancing. They had cared for one another and their professors so much. Now, everyone was fighting former peers, friends, first loves… no peace would be found among them. The friendly house rivalries had evolved into bloodshed.  
The very memories were enough to make her sick to her stomach.  
Byleth looked down at the intricate tiling on the floor. It was beautiful once, but the years and elements had worn it away to a lighter and less appealing color. Byleth glanced at the door, making sure no one was watching. She risked a (what she imagined) graceful step to the side. She extended her arms to an imaginary partner. Byleth offered a smile, feeling somewhat silly, but moved in the direction her feet remembered. After all, she didn’t have a partner, so dancing etiquette was not a worry of hers. Byleth closed her eyes, placing herself in the buzz of that night, her mind filling in a tall and noble form sweeping an arm around her with a dramatic flourish of his cape. Byleth felt herself move to the side, dipping her head back as her imaginary partner moved her in a broad circle in the middle of dancers. She had only danced with Claude that night and Alois when they had roped her into it, despite her warning them that she wasn’t good at dancing, no she had never danced before, and no, she didn’t have a need to learn now or ever, thank you very much. Being a mercenary didn’t give her the luxury of learning how to dance. Besides, she hadn’t ever had the desire for a dance partner in life. It was supposed to be her and Jeralt, swinging swords and axes and whatever other weapons they could get their hands on, until the very end.  
Like a summer that succumbs to an early frost, Jeralt’s life had ended early. Life fell apart after that. Byleth took another step, her mind slowly running through everything with every step.  
Step. Her father died in her arms. Step. They met the true face behind the flame knight. Step. Dimitri’s maniacal laughter filled her ears. Step. She had run after Rhea into battle. Step. Rhea had screamed, “Why did you come?”  
Byleth stepped again, smaller and more unsteady than the previous. She had fallen. She had slumbered. Another uncertain step came from under her. Had she failed?  
Lowering her arms, Byleth stood in the middle of the ruins, eyes opening to dead walls straight ahead. There were no other dancers. No prince. Just her and memories here, in this wasteland she once called home. Was she a failure? Was this ruin because of her? To her father, to Dimitri, to all those fallen, to Rhea…  
She gave an unsteady inhale. Rhea’s last glance at Byleth had been one of fear, not for herself but for Byleth. Rhea knew what would happen and she trusted Byleth with the future. But Byleth didn’t trust herself.  
This made her stop her mid-imaginary clumsy waltz. She failed this laundry list of people, did she truly fail herself? Trust was not an easy thing to give out for a mercenary. The only person she had ever really trusted was her father, and she didn’t even have him anymore.  
Byleth curled her fingers up and cleared her throat. She wasn’t going to cry, but her throat was closing up as if it would strangle tears out of her.  
“Professor?”  
Byleth blinked furiously and turned to the door. Despite not having a heart, she felt blood roaring to her cheeks. “Dimitri.” She bowed her head and stepped backward, away from him. “How are you holding up?”  
His light smile faltered some. “No need to be so formal with me, Professor.”  
“Says the man who still refers to me as his professor.” Byleth felt herself slide back a distance from him. She felt like a child who had been caught doing something she shouldn't have been doing.  
Dimitri chuckled as he raised his arms in mock abandon, relaxed and unguarded. “Alright, I concede. Byleth, then.” When she nodded in approval, Dimitri crossed his arms. “Now, what has you up and about, especially at this time of the evening?” He arched a brow above his eyepatch with a quirk of his lips. “Shouldn’t such brave heroes as yourself be getting plenty of rest?”  
Ironic, Byleth decided. Couldn't she say the same about him? She glanced away from him quickly. Byleth was almost- almost- frightened to see a glimpse of the old Dimitri, the loving seventeen-year-old prince she had first met five years ago. “Not when sleep evades me.” Her voice was soft, and her confession quiet. “I’m sorry. I am burdening you.”  
Byleth moved hurriedly past him towards the door. Perhaps she could ground herself outside, where something could make sense. She shrugged her coat closer before wrapping her fingers around the heavy door handle, cold from the cruel night winds.  
Dimitri spoke quickly as if trying to keep her from leaving. "I didn't dance with you that night." His fingers, which he had splayed as if reaching towards her as if to grasp her, curled in on himself. When she cast a slow glance over her shoulder, Dimitri's cheeks flushed. "I… I should have. I didn't. We went to the tower instead, remember?' He pushed stray strands of his sunshine hair back, contrasting to the night that enveloped them. "We went to the tower and we… we made a wish."  
Byleth turned to him fully. Dimitri seemed relieved she had delayed leaving. "I should have been serious about my wish-"  
"Dimitri-"  
"No, Byleth, I should have!" Dimitri ran both hands in his hair before straightening and tilting his head back to the sky. He closed his good eye, inhaled, then turned to Byleth. "My lady, humor me for a moment." Dimitri extended a hand. "Please."  
Byleth glanced to the door again, considering. She should run. She should leave. She should. But when he said her name- Byleth- like a prayer, gentle and begging, it broke her (nonexistent) heart.  
Dimitri offered a hopeful kind-of smile and flexed his fingers, waiting. Byleth slowly lowered her fingers into his palm, hesitant. Grinning, Dimitri curled his fingers and tugged on her. "Good, thank you, Byleth." He walked backward confidently, sweeping his cape off of his shoulders and tossing it onto an unused candle stand.  
Byleth found herself chuckling as she followed him, still stiff with her usual independence. "Dimitri, what are you doing?"  
"Making up for lost time." Dimitri held his other hand out and took Byleth's other hand. "May I have this dance?"  
Her hand tugged back. "Oh, I-" Byleth gave a nervous laugh, glancing around. "I don't know how-"  
Strong fingers picked up hers tenderly. "I'll teach you." Dimitri squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I promise. It's not much different from sword fighting, actually."  
Byleth let him take her other hand. "Oh, I doubt that." She mumbled, her eyes drawn to the way his fingers caressed hers.  
"You'd be shocked.' Dimitri reached over and slowly lowered his hand to her waist. "If you're uncomfortable, let me know." When Byleth didn't object, Dimitri moved her hand to his shoulder. "Dancing requires a lot of thought and forethought, like the battlefield." He adjusted his hand to hold hers comfortably. "Follow my lead-"  
"There's no music." Byleth insisted as she looked around again for any prying eyes at windows or glancing through the door.  
Dimitri tapped his fingers on her hand to draw her attention. "We don't need it." He offered her a gentle smile when she looked up at him. "I've got everything, Byleth. Trust me as you trust me in battle."  
Byleth exhaled and gave a small nod, her seafoam hair brushing her shoulders. She knew Dimitri had her back in war, so why not in the ballroom?  
Dimitri practically beamed, smiling gently as he pulled his arm around her waist. “Thank you.” His voice had softened, Byleth noted and was no longer echoing off the empty walls. Dimitri took a step across the floor, tugging her gently. “You follow my lead, trust me.” He muttered gently.  
“I have a hard time with that.” Byleth sighed as they moved to another step. “How long were you watching me?”  
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't watch you for a moment or two." Dimitri glided across the floor with her, feet moving quickly but gracefully, Byleth rushing to keep up. "Don't rush, just follow." Dimitri chided gently as he kept her close.  
Byleth chortled as Dimitri adjusted her hand on his shoulder. "It's hard to find the rhythm with no music. Do you wear your armor at night?" She tapped her fingers on his steel shoulder plate.  
"You have a rhythm when you fight. Everyone does." Dimitri paused his dancing and stepped back to examine her. Neither one of their hands left where they were on one another. "What's yours?"  
Byleth pondered, eyes flickering up at him. A rhythm in battle? Was it the flowing cadence of her companions moving with her? The pounding of heavy boots on the ground? Her ragged breathing after tearing down a mighty beast or a large opposing knight? She hadn't realized before battles had such a rhythm, but Byleth realized it now. "I suppose… my companions." She admitted. "Whatever they do, I do in step. In timing."  
"Perfect!" Dimitri moved closer again. "Then focus on my rhythm and follow it. I promise, think of it as if we were fighting side by side, it'll be a lot easier."  
The dance began again, with Dimitri humming a lilting tune taking a few sweeping steps to get Byleth into the mindset of dancing. When she appeared to understand and move fluidly, Dimitri moved her towards the center of the ballroom. "You're catching on well!" He lead her in a circle around the room, rotating around her. Byleth caught on to this quickly, her hand moving up his shoulder as they danced gracefully in the ancient ballroom, with no music but the sounds of their shoes and Dimitri's humming.  
Byleth tilted her head back as Dimitri moved her in a wide arc across the floor, picking it back up to catch her breath. She couldn't help but release a short, astounded laugh. Why had she not begun dancing sooner? She tightened her hand on Dimitri, who took the cue and moved his hand up to her back to tilt her further, the two of them still moving across the floor. Byleth picked her head up as he guided her up to him, their rotations becoming smaller. “You’re pretty good at this.” She glanced up at him when she stood up, breathless from the exercise of dancing. “I mean, I knew you were taught how to dance, but you’re a natural.”  
Dimitri slowed his steps, his arm around her tightening. “Professor?” His blue eye (just the one) was fixated on her, a hazy yet prominent intensity lurking.  
“Hm?” Byleth let him spin her under his arm. Dimitri returned her to his embrace, closer than before.  
“I…” Dimitri’s fingers brushed over her coat, his eye flickering down to her lips. “You’re a natural, too.”  
Alarms bells went off in Byleth’s head. There were a million little Byleths in her brain, shrieking and running around, half of them cheering and half of them wringing their hands. Her throat closed up, hand falling from his shoulder to his arm as his fingers grazed up her back. ”A natural at everything. You enchant me, you intrigue me, I know all your students worship the ground you walk on.” Dimitri's blithe fingers smoothed up her neck, running a chill down Byleth's spine. "I, most of all." His gaze held her hostage and he leaned in, exhaling a warm breath against her softly.  
Almost- almost!- Byleth melted against him, but her voice broke, his name brushing from her lips. "Dimitri."  
The prince inhaled heavily and froze, his mouth brushing hers for one tempting, fleeting moment. "I… I apologize." He stepped away, his hands falling from her form. Byleth found her fingers grasping for him.  
"I'm sorry." She spoke quickly. "But... maybe after the war…" her voice trailed off. Guilt began shrouding her. Oh, she shouldn't have said anything-  
Dimitri flipped his cape back on and glanced back at her, a grin lighting up his face. "All the more reason to finish it, then." He turned gracefully and faced her. "But until then, Professor." Dimitri took her hand gently and bowed gracefully, planting his lips gently on her knuckles. "I'll see more of you around." Was it just her imagination, or did Byleth feel the warmth of Dimitri’s kiss for far longer than his lips stayed?  
She pulled her hand close to herself as Dimitri bustled out, back tall with pride instead of hunched with a laborious burden. Byleth heard herself make an incredulous “Ha!”  
Byleth tossed her head back and looked up at the sky. “Sothis… thank you. He has returned.” Her fingers templed and she placed them against her chin, body heaving with elated giggled.  
The old Dimitri was back. Her nonexistent heart thudded in her chest, bursting with joy. For once, it seemed certain that everything would be alright, and maybe everyone could come out of this war alive.

**Author's Note:**

> I JUST FINISHED CH. 17 AND I'M HAVING EMOTIONS SO THIS MAY BE OOC BUT I WANT DIMITRI TO BE HAPPY OKAY, anyways I did lots of this on my lunch break and I'm posting it now, let me die in peace, someone take josh groban's music away from me,


End file.
